Life On Thedas
by foxfire79
Summary: Slightly AU. Ceridwen dreams of a perfect life with a perfect man. Sadly, her perfect man resides within the computer game 'Dragon Age: Origins'. When an unforseen event plunges Cerry from modern day Sydney into Ferelden, she has to learn to deal with darkspawn, soldiers, intrigues, and people who aren't just the two dimensional characters she's used to. M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 01 - Life On Mars

Life On Thedas - A Dragon Age: Origins Fan Fiction by Foxfire79 (Cousland/Alistair)

Nope, still don't work for Bioware, and hence have no legal rights to any of the characters or places mentioned within this work of fiction, except possibly for Ceridwen Crane/Cousland, my worlds' spanningly awesome heroine. In other words, don't sue me.

So, just for when you're sounding out the name in your head, Ceridwen begins with a hard 'C'. When I write her nickname 'Cerry', it's pronounced 'Kerry'. If anyone's actually interested, the name is of Welsh origins. How very Dalish of me. Ha!

This really is an establishment chapter, where we get to know Cerry. There are mentions of the DA:O characters, but no real immersion in the world until the very end of the chapter. Please don't let this put you off, it gets better, I promise! :-)

Chapter 01 - Life On Mars

Cerry's iPod Playlist: Song 001 - Life On Mars (David Bowie 1971)

Sydney, 2014

The alarm clock blaring into her left ear was almost too much for Ceridwen Crane to bear this early in the morning. Especially after going out drinking with her roommate Morgan the previous night. Morgan had been celebrating yet another break-up. Her caustic personality had driven away yet another potential life partner her mother had 'suggested' she go out with. These 'hooray for being singletons!' parties were almost a fortnightly occurrence now that both girls were twenty-three and living away from home. Morgan's mother, Felicity, felt that Morgan would 'settle down' after being paired with a suitable mate. Over the past two months she'd turned down a doctor, two lawyers and a Latin dance instructor. Ceridwen wondered where Felicity kept finding these men willing to go out with her daughter sight unseen. Morgan suggested that her mother was showing them photographs from her modeling days. Morgan had given up the catwalk for designing clothes almost two years ago, but somehow Felicity had gotten her hands on an almost endless supply of her daughter's slightly racy swimsuit shots to hand out to potential suitors. Morgan would go out on the arranged date with the 'victim', string him along for a week or so, then sever all ties with a terse phone call. Followed by drinking until the small hours with her closest friend.

Cerry and Morgan had been best friends since primary school. They were both slightly odd, neither of them fitting in with the rest of their classmates, and so had gravitated towards each other and started their own unlikely friendship. Morgan had always been the more severe of the pair; tall, thin and graceful, her black hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and a sneer never too far from her lips. Cerry was the honey to Morgan's lemon. She was shorter, but was always smiling, bouncing around the taller girl trying to break the serious look from her face, her burgundy curls flipping around her shoulders. She generally succeeded. Where Morgan had only been concerned with clothes and design, Cerry had been interested in finding out how things worked, especially locks. She could usually be found at lunch break trying to pick locks around the school, her curiosity knowing no bounds. The teachers who caught her would ask her what she was trying to do, and she would answer brightly 'There must be something good in there if it's locked! Why else would it be locked?' She was still given detention, even if the teacher's had been snickering at her answer. They had remained close all though high school, when Morgan had started modeling, and Cerry had discovered computer games.

While Morgan had been traipsing up and down the catwalk, Cerry had been playing games. Anything with swords, dragons, fairies, vampires, fantasy games were her escape from school and boredom. Morgan invited her to some of her shows, and she gladly went along, but the entire time she would be planning her next few adventures in her fantasy worlds. Her parents had also recognised her ability with puzzles and locks by buying her all manner of different of puzzle boxes and logic games. Her father built her a 'wall of locks' to pick when she got stressed out with school work. She would head into the garage, grab the set of picks she'd created for herself from metal scraps, and set about releasing all of their mechanisms from easiest to hardest. It was while she picking away at her lock wall that she came to the decision that after she'd graduated high school, she'd move to the city with Morgan to make their collective fortunes. Either that, or be struggling university students. She told Morgan her idea, and Morgan had agreed to come along. That had been five years ago.

Morgan was becoming better known as an Indie clothes designer, with a couple of her flashier designs being worn by a few up-and-coming pop stars. A lot of her designs involved leather skirts and halter neck tops, with lots of chains. She was making a nice little profit from the sales, while continuing on in her studies. Cerry, however... Her studies were going well, but most of her free time was taken up with her part time job at the local chain bookstore. Her computer was gathering dust, as was the pile of games beside it. She really wished she could revisit 'Dragon Age' one more time, seeing as it was her favourite, but there just wasn't time. When she started playing, she'd play for hours on end, delving into the story line, interacting with all the characters, developing her relationships. She was better at dealing with simulated relationships that real ones, at least. While Morgan was dating a new man every two weeks give or take, Cerry had never had a proper boyfriend. She'd dated some nice guys, sure, and she'd even slept with one of them, but they invariably ended up drifting apart. What would start out as them being attracted to her for her shyness and awkward behaviour, would end up with them leaving for somebody more 'normal'. Now, when Cerry was thrust into a situation where she had to deal with members of the opposite sex, she'd freeze up and blush, wishing she had a conversation wheel, or a list of options to choose from. 'Winging it' wasn't really her thing.

Morgan had offered to lend her one of the dates her mother had arranged for her, but Cerry had politely declined. She didn't want to go out with just anyone. She wanted to find someone who could make her laugh, who was as awkward as her in some situations, and who would never leave her for someone more 'normal'. She wanted... She wanted an 'Alistair'. She hated to admit it, but her perfect man only existed in a computer game. He was handsome, funny, sweet, strong, everything she wanted in a boyfriend. He just didn't exist in the real world. Alistair Theirin had ruined her for other men. She didn't need a boyfriend anyway. She was far too busy. Today was a new day, after all.

Cerry reached out to the alarm clock to stop its incessant shrieking. She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, and felt her stomach lurch. Oh, lordy. Last night had definitely been a large one. She tried to remember how many drinks she'd had, and lost count after four Cosmopolitans. Cocktails were the devil. She reached out her right foot and fished about on the floor for her slippers, gave up, and walked out to the kitchen in bare feet. Morgan was sitting at the kitchen table, holding her head in both hands. Cerry slid into the wooden kitchen chair across from her, yawning.

"A good morning to you, Ms Sayer."

Morgan groaned loudly into her hands, then raised a baleful glare up to meet Cerry's bleary eyes.

"Is it, Ms Crane? I think it came far too early for my liking. Why are you up, you don't have classes today?"

Cerry finished her jaw-cracking yawn, and slumped down into the chair.

"I've got work. It's a Wednesday, so it should be quiet. I just need it to be quiet."

Morgan smirked, and took a sip of her coffee.

"It's a book store. It's not like there's going to be a brass band playing in there. Just quiet, bookish folk, like yourself, going about the business of buying books. YOU should be fine. I, on the other hand, have a show to attend. I think I'm going to die..."

Cerry reached across the table and tapped her on the forearm in sympathy.

"There, there. Would you like to borrow my earplugs? And where's my coffee, by the way? You took me out on that ridiculous pub crawl last night, you owe me caffeine."

Morgan motioned towards the second cup on the table, and Cerry grabbed it eagerly, taking a large sip. Absolute heaven. Her eyes slipped closed and she sighed happily. Morgan chuckled, shaking her head.

"That's your problem, right there, Missy. You let absolutely all of your emotions show. You're cranky because you had to get up early after a long night out. You're happy because I made you a coffee. This is why you can't land a boyfriend. Men like a little mystery. You, my friend, are an open book. Because you work in a book store. With the books. Irony."

Cerry's eyes remained closed, as a smile tugged the corners of her mouth up.

"We do have mystery books, you know."

Morgan sighed, and crossed her arms.

"That's not what I... Ugh, this is useless. I'm going to get ready. See you for dinner, yeah?"

Cerry's eyes remained closed, but she raised her hand to give Morgan a lazy high five as she walked past.

"Absolutely. I'll buy some Chinese on the way home."

Morgan walked out of the kitchen and headed down the corridor to get dressed.

"I like your style, Ceridwen Crane! Now all we have to do is find you a nice guy!"

Cerry finally opened her eyes and sighed sadly into her half empty coffee cup.

"That goes double for you, Morgan Sayer. We need to work together to get your mother off of our collective backs..."

She knocked back the rest of the coffee in one large gulp, and stood up slowly, stretching out her back.

"I'm never going drinking with you again, Morgan. You've ruined me."

Morgan's voice drifted from her bedroom.

"You say that every time!"

Cerry grimaced, and slinked to her own bedroom, looking for a clean work shirt.

"One day I'll mean it, for realsies!"

Morgan's voice grew louder as she approached Cerry's room from down the hall.

"Of that I am sure. Now, how do I look?"

Cerry looked the statuesque beauty up and down. Her hair was swept up in a high ponytail, and she wore one of her trademark leather outfits, complimented with a copious amount of neck-chains and knee-high silver buckled boots. She looked brilliant.

"You look brilliant."

Morgan's face fell, and she clasped her hands in front of her.

"That's not what I meant! What sort of character should I be playing when I walk out there for my applause? Austere? Annoyed, but thankful? Agreeable? What?!"

Cerry studied the outfit and found herself grinning.

"You look kind of like an all powerful but slightly slutty witch. You should walk out there with a presence of 'Thank you, but really, who else could have done this as well as me?'. Does that work?"

Morgan grinned, her eyes narrowing.

"Oh yes... That works for me."

Morgan's phone buzzed, letting her know that her taxi had arrived. She ruffled Cerry's hair on the way out, and Cerry swatted her away, growling.

"Go away, you big important thing. Let us 'Working Joe's' get ready for our daily grind."

Morgan spun around in the doorway, blowing her as kiss.

"Have a lovely day, dear. Don't work too hard. I'll bring you back a sample bag!"

Cerry pulled her dark blue 'The Bookroom' shirt on, then stared into the mirror trying to figure out how best to tame her wild locks.

"Make it two bags! I need hair products!"

The only response was the front door slamming. Cerry sighed and looked at her watch, then quickly looked at it again.

"Oh, crap!"

Drinking the coffee had surely been a luxury she couldn't afford this morning. Luckily, 'The Bookroom' was within walking distance. Cerry decided a ponytail would have to do. She scraped her deep red curls back from her forehead, grimacing when the knots snarled in her brush, and tied them back with a simple black hair elastic. Her black uniform pants from yesterday were still clean enough, and the fact that they were covered in floor creases didn't phase her. They would fall out during the walk. She applied her make-up quickly and efficiently, just enough to make it look like she hadn't only had three hours sleep last night, and that there were no tell-tale bags under her eyes. She looked at her reflection for a moment, trying to copy Morgan's usual superciliousness, but ended up looking like a petulant five year old. She stuck her tongue out at her reflection, grabbed her backpack and iPod, and ran out the door, slipping on her black and white Converse All Star's which were already tied and waiting for her.

At eight-thirty in the morning, the footpath outside Cerry and Morgan's building was about at its busiest. Cerry pushed her way out into the crowd, heading towards the busy shopping district. It was days like this she wished that cafe's didn't have tables that interfered with the footpath, and the pedestrians who were desperately trying to make it to work on time. Every three steps or so she had to apologise for nearly getting someone's latte dumped in their laps. She finally made it to the front door of 'The Bookroom' with five minutes to spare. The shop was still dark, and she cupped her hands around her eyes, peering through the tinted glass. A familiar red-head popped up from behind the counter, and Cerry knocked on the glass to get her attention. Lily was her closest friend at work, and was always good for a laugh. Lily spotted her, and hurried to the door to unlock it, a worried look gracing her features.

"Oh Cerry, thank goodness you're here. Everyone else has called in sick. Apparently when they all went out for dinner last night, they got food poisoning. Lucky for us, you had a prior engagement, and I... wasn't invited."

Cerry grimaced, rubbing her already aching head.

"Which means?"

Lily sighed, blowing a strand of her red fringe out of her eyes.

"Which means we'll both need to do a double shift today. Nine this morning to seven-thirty tonight - can you manage it?"

Cerry nodded, rubbing her eyes.

"Of course, Lily. I wouldn't leave you here alone."

Lily breathed out a sigh of relief, and clutched her forearm.

"Oh, thank goodness! I don't know what I would have done if you'd said no. I probably would have hidden for the rest of the day!"

Cerry patted her hand, and moved into the shop, changing the 'Closed' sign to 'Open' as she reached behind the door.

"I don't suppose they'll be paying us any extra for holding down the fort while they spend their day clutching their bellies in agony?"

Lily giggled and covered her mouth.

"I'm afraid not. They will pay us for the second shift though, I made sure of that."

Cerry smiled wryly and flipped on the lights.

"That's better than nothing, I suppose."

Lily walked back to the register, perching herself on the stool to wait for some business. Cerry went to the fiction section to pick out something to read while she waited. At ten past nine the first customers arrived, and the work day finally began.

The day was fairly standard, really. Questions about certain authors, questions about when the next book in a series was coming out, questions about book/movie tie-ins, questions about the differences between comics/graphic novels/manga. Then it was lunch time, and Lily and Cerry decided to close the shop for the half hour break and eat quietly in the children's book section, sitting on the large floor cushions. At one-thirty they re-opened the doors, and Cerry almost choked when she recognised the first customer to enter after their lunch break. It was her English Literature professor, Zachary Arens.

He was in his mid-thirties, and was one of the younger staff members at the university. Practically every female student, and some of the male ones as well, thought he was the most handsome, and eligible, man in the faculty. He'd somehow managed to turn everyone down, and was still single to this day. Cerry really did enjoy his classes though. The fact that he was pretty to look at, with his longish blond hair swept back in a ponytail, and his 'to-die-for' high cheek bones, didn't hurt either. He must have finished teaching for the day, because his clothes were much more casual than usual. Dear god, those jeans... Cerry realised she must have been staring when Lily cleared her throat, gesturing with her head that she should 'approach him and offer some assistance'. Cerry did just that. She sidled up to the handsome man as he perused the 'New Releases' and coughed, nervously.

"Um... Hey, Mr Arens, can I help you with anything?"

He startled slightly when he heard his name, but after he turned to see who was addressing him, he relaxed.

"You are... Ceridwen, yes? You're in my English Lit class. I didn't know you worked here."

His spanish accent made her insides go all... wibbly. How someone like him remained single was an absolute mystery. Cerry smiled crookedly, and folded her arms across her chest.

"Yes sir, I've worked here for going on four years now. It's a good place..."

She trailed off, not knowing where to take the conversation next. Zachary seemed to be quite comfortable, though.

"Please, Ceridwen, there's no need to be so formal. You may call me Zach. At least outside of the lecture theatre, that is."

Cerry was taken aback by how friendly the man seemed. Some of the girls in class who had approached him had labeled him as 'cold' and 'aloof' when they'd tried their luck with him. Maybe it was because she'd never tried pushing her luck with him? Who knew.

"Okay... Zach. Is there anything I can help you out with? Regarding the books, I mean."

Zach chuckled, and pushed a stray strand of hair back behind his ear.

"What else would it be regarding?"

He shot a penetrating look at her, his light brown eyes boring into her light blue ones. Dear god, was he flirting with her? Cerry looked away, studiously staring at the bookshelf beside him. He sighed and looked away also, taking a random book from the shelf and thumbing lazily through the pages.

"That made you uncomfortable. I'm sorry. I'm so used to beautiful young women throwing themselves at me, I'm completely lost when one of them is merely politely doing her job. Forgive me?"

Cerry felt her cheeks warming. Did Zachary Arens, the handsome English Lit lecturer, just call her beautiful? In a roundabout manner, sure, but... Yes. Yes he just did. She wasn't sure how to feel about this. She decided to play it cool. Or cool for her, anyway.

"It's fine, really... Zach. I get hit on working in this place more than you know. Apparently chicks who read books are really in demand right now."

Zach put the book back on the shelf, chuckling again.

"Is that so? Then I may have to move faster than I had wanted to..."

Cerry's brow furrowed. This was flirting, right? She still didn't smile up at him, but her gaze softened a little.

"Afraid that someone's going to steal me away before I can actually help you out with your bookish quandary?"

He smiled, finally meeting her eyes again. Those light brown eyes seemed to smoulder, even when he wasn't trying.

"Amongst other things, yes. I have a rather... odd request. I hope it won't make you feel uncomfortable. I've actually come here today to buy some of the more... erotic fictions available. They are all the rage, I hear, and seeing if I can make references between them and some of the classics might be an interesting challenge. Can you help me?"

Cerry could feel her heart pounding in her ears. Picking out erotic fiction for an incredibly good looking, single guy. Sure, no problem. She gulped, hopefully silently, and moved down towards the romance section.

"Let's start you off with 'Fifty Shades' and see where we end up."

Fifteen minutes later, after many embarrassing questions and a few bashful giggling sessions, Cerry had loaded him up with a good assortment of, as he'd called them, 'the more erotic fictions'. She ushered him to the register, but Lily seemed to have disappeared. Cerry got behind the barrier and rang up his purchases, placing them in one of 'The Bookroom's' black canvas bags.

"So nobody knows what you're carrying around. Goodness knows, you don't want to give everyone another reason to go after you. If they knew you were reading this stuff, they'd all be offering themselves to you as test subjects."

Zach's eyes seemed to darken a little as he pondered the strange young woman behind the counter.

"I have to ask, Ceridwen. How do you know which of those books would be suitable for a person just starting out reading them?"

Cerry answered before she could even stop to think.

"Oh, I've read them all..."

Oh, crap. Well, now he knew, she was an avid reader of creepy sex books. The slow grin appearing across his face didn't look like he was freaked out by her answer, though.

"Oh really? You must have the happiest and most satisfied boyfriend in the world then..."

Cerry shook her head.

"No time for a boyfriend. Reading too many dirty books, and studying. Always studying."

Zach leaned against the counter, looking at her a little more closely.

"Interesting... Ceridwen, you are a truly... unique woman. I would very much like to take you out for coffee some time. Would that be alright?"

Cerry wrinkled her nose in thought.

"But, you're my lecturer. Isn't that against the rules or something?"

Zach sighed, and backed away from the counter.

"You are right. For a moment there, I had completely forgotten that you were my student. Forgive me, again."

He turned to leave, and Cerry felt she had to say something, to stop him.

"Well... That is... I mean... I finish my course in six months. If you'd still want to go out in six months? I'll definitely be available, it's not like there's a line of guys trying to ask me out... Not that you were asking me out."

Zach had started laughing again, at her stunted conversation skills. He turned and came back to the counter, resting his hand beside hers, so close she could feel the heat emanating from his skin.

"I would like that, very much, Ceridwen. Coffee in six months. It's a date."

He leaned a little closer, his voice dropping to an almost whisper.

"I'll have finished all of these books by then. We'll have some... interesting things to discuss. And if you have any other literary suggestions for me, I'll be ready for them. In the meantime..."

He leaned forward and pushed one of her own stray curls back behind her ear. Cerry nearly jumped out of her skin, as his warm fingers skimmed the skin of her ear.

"See you in class tomorrow, Ms Crane. Let's keep this between us, yes?"

Cerry moved backwards slightly and nodded. She hoped her face wasn't as red as it felt. It probably was. Dagnabbit.

"Business as usual, Mr Arens. See you tomorrow."

As he walked out of the shop, she couldn't help focusing on his jeans again. The man had a certain... swagger to his walk, that was completely captivating. Lily reappeared, popping up in front of her before the counter, her huge grey eyes wide with questions.

"Who on earth was that? Was he flirting with you?"

Her french accent, which she hid most of the time, became more obvious when she was excited. And chatter about boys always made her excited. Boys or shoes. The next three hours were filled with Lily questioning her about the handsome lecturer, and the plans they'd made for six months from now. At five o'clock they locked up the store and grabbed some sandwiches from the cafe next door for dinner. At five-thirty they re-opened for the last two hours of business. Cerry called Morgan to let her know she'd be late. She didn't answer her phone though, so Cerry just left a message, saying she'd be a couple of hours later than usual, but that she'd still bring the food. Hardly anybody came into the shop at this time of day. Lily was sitting by the register painting her nails, so Cerry picked up the book she'd started that morning and continued reading. The two hours seemed to crawl by, but eventually the clock struck seven-thirty. They'd served exactly three customers in the past two hours, such a waste of time. She hoped that everyone would be over their food-poisoning by tomorrow, seeing as she did have class and couldn't afford to miss it, especially now...

She wandered down the aisles, picking up random misplaced books and replacing them on the shelves. Lily locked up the register and went in the back to put the money in the safe. At seven-forty they met at the front door, carrying their bags, ready to depart. Cerry turned the lights out as Lily fiddled about with the key, trying to slot it into the lock before the both stepped outside. She turned it, and they both sighed happily at the resounding click. Lily beamed a smile at Cerry.

"Well, we survived!"

Cerry grinned back.

"We did indeed. Hooray for us!"

Lily's grin widened, and the two friends chest bumped out in the street, standing at the front of the store.

"Boom!"

They both yelled it in unison, then burst into giggling fits. They were clearly exhausted, but they had managed it. Cerry hooked her Sennheiser headphones around her neck, turning her iPod on, but pausing the song before it could start playing. They were still talking, of course.

"Are you working tomorrow?"

Lily nodded, and ran a hand through her hair, rolling her neck.

"Yes, but only half a day. If they ask me to do two shifts in a row again, I may quit."

Cerry looked at her, concerned.

"And leave me there by myself? How could you?"

Lily smiled, shaking her head.

"I could never do that. You're the only one that makes that place tolerable. See you later!"

Lily turned and walked up the street, towards the train station. Cerry put her headphones on and pressed play. The mix was fairly eclectic, with music from today all the way back to the nineteen forties. She'd hit 'shuffle' this morning, but hadn't had a chance to actually listen to anything, seeing as she'd been pummelled pretty much all the way to work. She smiled to herself when the dulcet tones of David Bowie started playing. The Chinese restaurant where she usually bought their take-away was just across the street. Since it was past six o'clock, the traffic had died down. The cross walk was three blocks away. She figured she could risk it. She looked both ways and stepped onto the street, seeing as it was empty. She found herself humming along to the song, and thinking about what Morgan would probably want for a late dinner.

There was a strange sound, she didn't know if it came from the song, or from the street, but it was definitely odd. Then, she suddenly found herself flying through the air. When she eventually hit the ground, all she could see was blackness. A deep, throbbing pain in her head made her groan aloud, and she struggled to sit up. Something heavy was weighing on her chest. She still couldn't see either. And she could hear someone calling her name, as if from afar.

"...erry! Cerry! CERRY! Are you alive?"

There was something heavy on her head, too. It was what was obstructing her vision. She tried to pull the heavy thing from her head, but it seemed to be attached to her clothes somehow. Her clothing felt unfamiliar as well, all buckles and sharp edges. What on earth...? She heard feet running up to her and someone dropping to the ground beside her, then a second pair of hands grabbed the metal thing on her head, gave it a slight twist to the side and lifted it off.

"Maker's Breath, you had me worried there for a moment, cousin! I thought I'd permanently damaged you! Mother never would have forgiven me!"

The light returned, and with it the sounds and the smells of her surroundings. She was sitting on the grass, in a fenced off circle, surrounded by high stone walls. There was some sort of... weapon rack, for want of a better term, off to the side of the circle, filled with swords, daggers and bows. She looked down at herself and gasped. She appeared to be wearing a set of chainmail, or something, the fine metal mesh stopping at her wrists and ankles. The boots and gloves seemed to match, being made of the same metal but more solid then the mesh. No wonder she'd found it so difficult to sit up. She was a walking fortress. The helmet that the other person had helped her pull off was sitting between her feet. Yes, there was no mistaking it. She had been wearing a full set of armour. She finally took the time to look at the person who'd helped her get the helmet off, and had to do a double-take.

She was wearing a lighter kind of armour, possibly leather, in a dress style which showed off her long, tanned legs. It was short sleeved as well, the skin on her arms also sunkissed. The person reached up to take off her own helmet, and her hair swung down her back in a sensible straight, black ponytail. Her blue-green eyes gazed at her questioningly, and a faint smile played across her rosy lips. Holy crap. Cerry knew who this was. And it was completely impossible.

"You're... Elissa Cousland."

Elissa narrowed her eyes, and looked at her face a little more closely.

"Oh dear, did you hit your head harder than I thought? Of course I'm Elissa Cousland, you daft thing! And you're Ceridwen Cousland, my beloved cousin who won't speak a word of this to my mother, yes?"

Something must have happened. Cerry knew that this couldn't possibly be real. She'd been crossing the road to get Chinese food for dinner, how did she end up in Highever, of all places. Firstly, because it was fictional, and secondly... Well, there was no secondly. Thedas wasn't real. Ferelden wasn't real. Elissa Cousland wasn't real. None of this was real... right? She reached up and touched the tender spot on the back of her head, where the ache was emanating from, and her fingers came away bloody. Oh, shit.

"Oh, shit!"

That was Elissa. Elissa Cousland, of Highever. Elissa Cousland just swore. She dropped to her knees beside Cerry and looked at the wound.

"I need to get you inside. I have someone who owes me a favour, he'll get you an injury kit. Can you walk?"

Elissa grabbed Cerry by the arm and hefted her up with almost no trouble. She hooked an arm around her waist and started walking her towards the guards' barracks, presumably to find the person who owed her a favour. As they walked, Cerry's eyes drank in the scenery. The stones had small imperfections in them, the wood was splintering in places, there were weeds amongst the grass... Everything looked so real. She could feel the sun shining down on her, hear the long grass rasping against the metal of her leg armour, feel the heat baking off Elissa's arm around her waist and smell the sweat from both of them. The only thing that took a little of the reality away from the situation was that in the back of her mind, and imperceptible to everyone else around, she could still hear the haunting melody of David Bowie belting out 'Life On Mars'.

END OF PART 01

Started at 10.15pm, finished at 3.27am. That's not bad for me! So I know it took a while for Cerry to actually get to Ferelden, but hey! Because character creation, that's why! The next part may take a while, as I'm still working on all the other stuff too, but I really want to get this story out there. Hopefully you guys all recognised the earthbound equivalent's of our favourite Dragon Age: Origins characters. They will make guest appearances through the story as it progresses. I can't wait to introduce Alistair, he's going to be a little... different than usual. You'll like him, I promise! Anyways, read, review and enjoy!

Foxfire out!


	2. Chapter 02-Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds

Life On Thedas - A Dragon Age: Origins Fan Fiction by Foxfire79 (Cousland/Alistair)

Nope, still don't work for Bioware, and hence have no legal rights to any of the characters or places mentioned within this work of fiction, except possibly for Ceridwen Crane/Cousland, my worlds' spanningly awesome heroine. In other words, don't sue me.

So, still no Alistair in this chapter, but we get to hang out with Elissa, Ser Gilmore and Ganymede, Elissa's mabari warhound. Oh, and we meet up with Nan in the kitchens, and kill some rats.

I hope you guys are enjoying this, like I said, it's going to be fairly epic, so not everything is going to happen in the first couple of chapters. Please just hang in there!

Previously...

Something must have happened. Cerry knew that this couldn't possibly be real. She'd been crossing the road to get Chinese food for dinner, how did she end up in Highever, of all places? Firstly, because it was fictional, and secondly... Well, there was no secondly. Thedas wasn't real. Ferelden wasn't real. Elissa Cousland wasn't real. None of this was real... right? She reached up and touched the tender spot on the back of her head, where the ache was emanating from, and her fingers came away bloody. Oh, shit.

"Oh, shit!"

That was Elissa. Elissa Cousland, of Highever. Elissa Cousland just swore. She dropped to her knees beside Cerry and looked at the wound.

"I need to get you inside. I have someone who owes me a favour, he'll get you an injury kit. Can you walk?"

Elissa grabbed Cerry by the arm and hefted her up with almost no trouble. She hooked an arm around her waist and started walking her towards the guards' barracks, presumably to find the person who owed her a favour. As they walked, Cerry's eyes drank in the scenery. The stones had small imperfections in them, the wood was splintering in places, there were weeds amongst the grass... Everything looked so real. She could feel the sun shining down on her, hear the long grass rasping against the metal of her leg armour, feel the heat baking off Elissa's arm around her waist and smell the sweat from both of them. The only thing that took a little of the reality away from the situation was that seemingly in the back of her mind, and imperciptable to everyone else around, she could still hear the haunting melody of David Bowie belting out 'Life On Mars'.

Now...

Chapter 02 - Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds

Cerry's iPod Playlist: Song 002 - Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds (The Beatles 1967)

Ferelden, 9:30 Dragon

Ceridwen couldn't help but stare at the young woman helping her into the guard's barracks. She definitely looked real. There was a slight up-turn to the end of her nose, and a smattering of freckles across her forehead. She clearly spent a lot of time outside in the sun. These were not details that appeared in the game. Neither was her companion's slightly gangly walk, as if she had been overly tall while growing up and was still getting used to moving about in her adult body. Elissa was definitely tall, almost an entire head taller than Cerry. She had to stoop to get her arm around Cerry's waist to support her. The pounding in Cerry's head was worsening with every step, and she felt like she was about to throw up.

"What... what happened out there? What knocked me out?"

Elissa glanced down at her, grimacing.

"Errr... I did. It WAS an accident though! An over-zealous shield bash, I mean, Maker's Breath! When you flew backwards into that fence post, my heart almost stopped! It was like you completely forgot how to evade, you just let me hit you with all my strength..."

Cerry stumbled as they walked up the small set of stairs which led up into the barracks, and Elissa grabbed her a little tighter. She could feel the other girl's fingernails digging into the flesh of her arms. The urge to vomit grew even stronger in the back of her throat, and she started seeing black dots in the corners of her vision.

"I think I'm going to be sick..."

She mumbled the phrase, before collapsing on her hands and knees just inside the doorway, and voiding the contents of her stomach onto a smartly polished pair of black boots.

"Elissa, I do so enjoy it when you drop by the barracks. You always manage to make my days more... interesting... Wait, is that your cousin? What happened?"

Elissa was once again struggling to lift Cerry to her feet. The owner of the boots now intervened, lifting her completely off the ground and into his arms, bringing her further into the barracks and laying her on a bed.

"This isn't the time for sarcasm, Gilmore. I just knocked her out in the training area. Her head is bleeding, and, well, she just threw up on your shoes. I think she might have hurt herself more than I realised. Can you help her? Surely a health poultice and some health potion should... fix her, right?"

The bed felt lumpy beneath her back and legs, as Gilmore helped her into a sitting position to look at the wound on the back of her head. He probed it gently with his fingers, and once again she felt the urge to throw up rising.

"It's happening again..."

He didn't even step back, just held her steady as she once again retched, though nothing came up this time. Thank goodness. Her vision was still fairly fuzzy and dark around the edges, and she felt on the edge of fainting. She vaguely heard Gilmore asking her if she was finished, and she made the mistake of nodding her answer. She felt a groan escape her throat as she slumped forward, resting her clammy brow against his shoulder.

"Well, I'm fairly convinced that she has a concussion. She seems to be suffering from dizziness, she most definitely has the nausea, and the rather large gash and lump coming up on her head pretty much gave it away."

Elissa was hopping from foot to foot, waiting anxiously by the side of the bed. She grabbed Gilmore's arm, gazing into his face, earnestly.

"Can you help her?"

Gilmore patted the other girl on the head and moved over to the storage chest beside the bed.

"Of course I can, what do you take me for? A rank amateur?"

He returned to the bedside, and grasped Cerry by the shoulder.

"My Lady? I'm afraid I'm going to have to roll you onto your stomach. I need to apply a poultice to the back of your head, and it will have to stay there for a good ten minutes or so for the full effects to kick in. You may wish to close your eyes."

Cerry closed her eyes, bracing herself for the headspin.

"Just do it. Quickly, please."

Gilmore nodded, and rolled her to the right so she was lying on her stomach, her face leaning half off the pillow so she could still breathe. With her eyes closed, the dizziness wasn't as bad as she'd been expecting. She could feel him applying something cool to the back of her head, then a slight numbing sensation. He'd parted her hair so it hung forward over her shoulders, so hopefully whatever this 'goo' was being applied to her scalp wouldn't end up hopelessly tangling her already messy locks.

"That feels nice... Weird, but nice."

As the mixture coating her wound cooled and numbed her, she realised that she could no longer hear David Bowie singing in her head. The tune had given way to The Beatles singing 'Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds'. It was rather fitting as she felt like she was currently tripping out. The numbness of the wound mixed with the shock of what was actually happening seemed to be catching up with her. Here she was, in the guards barracks of Highever castle, being treated with an honest to god health poultice. None of those things should have been possible. Gilmore rested his hand on her shoulder, kneeling down so he was at her face level.

"That means it's working. Now, I'm just going to ask you a few questions to see how your brain is holding up after that ridiculous farce of a training session."

Elissa reached out and whacked him on the shoulder lightly.

"Hey now! I'm standing right here!"

He glanced back at her, annoyed.

"And you should know better than to attack your own cousin with your full strength, even during a 'playful' training session. Maker, you're lucky you didn't kill her! Head injuries are a serious business!"

Elissa looked down, blushing. Cerry reached out a hand towards her, feeling sorry for the girl.

"I'm sure I'll be fine. I'll be more careful next time, I promise."

Elissa snorted, crossing her arms.

"Shouldn't I be the one saying that?"

Cerry blinked, and smiled slowly, closing her eyes once again.

"Well, go ahead and say it then..."

Elissa giggled, dropping to her knees by the bedside so she look more directly into Cerry's face.

"Very well, then. I'm sorry cousin. I'll be more careful next time."

That was if there even would be a next time. Cerry was sure she'd wake up back at home soon enough. If Elissa remembered knocking her out over here, in Highever, something must have knocked her out back in Sydney as well. This was probably just an unconscious dream. A 'Dragon Age' related unconscious dream, which was very vivid, but a dream nonetheless. The ache in her head was slowly ebbing, as was the sour feeling in her stomach. Apparently health poultices actually did work.

"Do you promise?"

Elissa reached out and took her hand gently, linking their pinky fingers.

"I promise. There, just like back when we were little. Is that good enough?"

Gilmore sighed and moved back into his kneeling position beside the bed, and Cerry opened her eyes, getting a better look at him. He had red hair, smoothed back behind his ears, and was freshly shaven. He appeared to be wearing a rather fancy shirt and pants combo rather than a suit of armour, and... Oh lordy, she'd thrown up on his boots. She felt her cheeks reddening as she thought back to her less than ladylike entrance.

"Sorry about the mess..."

Gilmore chuckled, wiping at a few spots that had made it onto his pants, and looked back at her.

"I've had worse days, believe me. Now, back to what I was going to start earlier: A few questions, just to check your memory, if I may? Your name, My Lady?"

"Ceridwen Cr... Cousland."

He frowned slightly at her hesitation, but continued on.

"Where are we right now?"

"The barracks...?"

He smiled, poking her in the forehead.

"The barracks where?"

"Oh, sorry. Highever Castle, Ferelden."

He nodded.

"Good so far. What's her name, and her relationship to you?"

He motioned towards Elissa.

"Elissa Cousland, and she's my cousin."

Apparently. Gilmore nodded again.

"Can you name the rest of your family residing in Highever?"

Cerry had to think for a moment. What were their names? They were only ever in the beginning, before... There was a sharp pain in her head as she tried to remember what happened to instigate her leaving Highever in the game, but her thoughts were still muddled. She squinted while the pain died away, then tried to collect her thoughts.

"There's my uncle and aunt, Bryce and Eleanor, and my other cousin Fergus... Oh, and his wife and son."

Gilmore raised an eyebrow, looking slightly amused.

"And their names are?"

Very similar... The pain in her head was fading again, but she still couldn't remember anything about Highever besides who lived there.

"Oriana and Oren?"

"Are you telling me or asking me?"

"Telling you...?"

Gilmore smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He was very cute when he smiled.

"Very well then. Who am I?"

Cerry thought for a moment, then it hit her. This was Ser Gilmore, Ser Gilmore from the game. Hooley dooley.

"You're Ser Gilmore. You're a... squire for Uncle Bryce. There's a Grey Warden coming here, with a thought to recruit you..."

Ser Gilmore's smile faded slightly and his eyebrows raised in question.

"How do you know about that? He only arrived this morning."

Elissa placed a worried hand on his arm.

"There's a Grey Warden here? Will you go with him?"

Ser Gilmore covered her hand with his own, looking at her earnestly.

"I won't go with him unless he really needs me to. You'll need me here more than ever, once your father and brother leave to fight with King Cailan, and your mother travels on with Dairren's mother. Besides, I would never choose to leave you, My Lady..."

His tone had become more heartfelt, and Cerry could see that his fingers had intertwined with Elissa's on his arm. She'd always thought there was something going on with those two in the game, the way they were so familiar with each other. She closed her eyes again, leaning into the pillow.

"Why don't you two just get a room and leave me be. I'll blame this little slip on my head injury and forget about it, alright?"

They sprang apart quite quickly, Cerry could hear their hurried footfalls, and she chuckled into the pillow. Ser Gilmore cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed.

"I, errr... Thank you, My Lady, I think we'll be fine."

Elissa giggled.

"For the time being at least. I'm not that lecherous..."

Gilmore, placed his hand on Cerry's shoulder, assisting her to turn back over, and sit up. His face was definitely red. he kept shooting glances at Elissa, then looking away quickly whenever she looked back at him. He was just adorable. No wonder the young Mistress of Highever had a thing for him. He handed her a small glass bottle filled to the brim with a red liquid.

"This is a lesser health potion, it should be enough to finish healing up the gash on your head. The poultice seems to have done it's job. The bleeding has stopped, and the swelling has all but vanished..."

Ser Gilmore was interrupted by one of the other guards entering the room, carrying a dented helmet.

"Ser, we just retrieved this from the training ring, it's quite badly damaged..."

The guard stopped talking when he noticed the two young ladies in the room, one still situated on the bed.

"Ah. And I can only assume that Lady Ceridwen was the one wearing it at the time. It's good that she's already being treated. I'll see myself out..."

The guard backed out of the room, smiling a little. Cerry looked down at the bottle, slightly suspicious. It would only have been more tempting with a 'drink me' label tied around the rim. Ah well, bottom's up...

"Cheers..."

She smiled crookedly before she chugged the mysterious concoction. It tasted... nice. Like spiced rum, with a slightly bitter aftertaste. She could feel a warmth spreading through her chest, then yet another tingle in the back of her head where her wound had been. She reached back with the fingers of her left hand and felt a small knot of hard flesh just as the base of her skull, where the wound had been before. Scar tissue already? This stuff was a bloody miracle cure! She must have made a face, because Ser Gilmore chuckled, moving her hand aside so he could feel the improved wound area for himself. The poultice seemed to either have melted or soaked in, because it was no longer there. No trace of the mushy, cool substance remained on her head.

"How do you feel, My Lady?"

Cerry flexed her fingers and toes, and rolled her shoulders and neck.

"Good as new, as far as I can tell. Thank you, Ser Gilmore. And once again, sorry about your shoes. And your pants."

He looked down at his rather fancy outfit and smiled, ruefully.

"Yes, it looks like I'll have to find something else to wear to the banquet tonight. This was my one good outfit, I was just trying it on to make sure it still fit. Funnily enough, it did."

Elissa placed a hand on his shoulder, making him look at her.

"I'll see if I can borrow something from Fergus for you to wear, you two are around the same size. I'd assume. Not that I'd know."

Cerry giggled, sliding her legs around to rest her feet on the floor. They were still trying to pretend they weren't an item.

"Will you two stop it! I know you're together, just stop pretending you aren't, it's making it more obvious!"

Elissa rolled her eyes, crossing her arms once again.

"Maker's Breath, Cerry! Stop proclaiming our relationship to the entire castle. There's a reason we're keeping it 'clandestine' you know..."

Ser Gilmore's face couldn't be any redder. Cerry placed her hand on his, making him look at her.

"Be that as it may, I wish you both luck and happiness. And I hope that Duncan doesn't steal you away."

His eyes grew questioning again.

"Duncan? Who's Duncan?"

There was a faint stabbing pain in the back of her head again, but she pushed through it.

"The Grey Warden, of course."

He nodded, happy with that answer.

"Of course. I'm surprised that you know so much about him, seeing as he only arrived this morning."

Cerry stopped to think.

"I pay very close attention to everything that happens around here, Ser Gilmore. I like to be on top of things."

Elissa wrapped her arms around Ser Gilmore's waist, emboldened by Cerry's admission to knowing about their relationship.

"So do I, dear cousin. So do I."

Ser Gilmore looked back at her, his face growing even redder.

"Elissa, please? We have company..."

She smiled, and rested her chin on his shoulder.

"She knows about us, Gilmore, it's fine. Besides, it's not like Cerry's a blushing virgin herself."

Ser Gilmore closed his eyes, praying for strength.

"I did not need to know that..."

Cerry stretched her arms out, yawning. She felt completely refreshed.

"Can I go then?"

Ser Gilmore finally managed to extricate himself from his lover's grasp, and faced Cerry again.

"Absolutely, though I was just about to search you two out after I had changed out of my good clothes. Apparently, Ganymede has been terrifying the kitchen staff again. He won't let them into the larder."

Cerry's eyebrow's furrowed.

"Who the heck is Ganymede?"

They both glanced at her odd turn of phrase, then Elissa answered.

"Oh dear, are you sure she's fine, Gilmore? Cerry loves Gany, she'd never forget his name..."

Ser Gilmore rubbed a hand over his brow, grimacing.

"Why you chose such a... foreign name for your mabari hound escapes me, Elissa."

Oh. So in this version of the 'story', Elissa had named her dog Ganymede. Cerry had never gone for anything that fancy.

"Of course I remember Gany! He's such a cute little mabari warhound!"

Elissa laughed out loud, scratching her own head.

"Cute and little he most definitely is not. He does love you, though. Perhaps you'll be able to convince him to leave poor Nan alone, yes? We'd best head off..."

Ser Gilmore had been studying the dented helmet while they were discussing the dog, and had been thoughtfully rubbing the large indentation with his fingers. He was clearly intrigued by the size of the dent and the depth of her wound in comparison. He reached out and grabbed Cerry's arm as she stood up.

"One moment, Lady Cousland, if I may?"

He reached into the chest pulling out another healing potion and pressing it into her hand.

"If you feel any recurring symptom's please drink this. From the depth of the dent in this helmet... I'm actually surprised you're walking around at all. Technically... you should be dead."

He held out the helmet, and she peered inside it. The dent went in almost two inches, and was covered in blood and strands of her dark auburn hair. She reached back to feel the knotted scar tissue again, and fought back a shudder. She should be dead... That was not comforting. She glanced up into Ser Gilmore's face and noticed his own shock. He hadn't been kidding. Damn.

"Thank you for your quick thinking then, Ser Gilmore. I owe you my life."

He gave her a shaky smile.

"I've never believed that much in my healing skills before, but apparently you got to me just in time. Thank the Maker you did so. That being said, I believe I shall accompany the two of you to find Ganymede just to keep an eye on you for the next half an hour or so. To make sure you don't relapse."

Cerry smiled, glancing at Elissa who seemed to be raring to get out of the dark and slightly claustrophobic guard's barracks.

"Thank you, that might be for the best."

He assisted her to stand, then moved away, not wishing to lose any of his lover's favour. Elissa linked arms with her and all but pulled her out of the barracks and back into the sunlit courtyard. Ser Gilmore remained behind to change back into his armour, which he seemed to manage rather quickly. He trotted over to the training area and came back with an armful of weapons which he handed to both of the girls. Elissa took her longsword and shield, so Cerry assumed that the other longsword and the dagger must be hers. She gingerly placed the sword within the scabbard at her waist on her left, and the dagger into the smaller scabbard on her right. They both felt heavy and alien against her body, but apparently everyone walked around this place armed. Ser Gilmore had a great-sword attached to his back. He walked as though the additional weight didn't even affect him. Cerry sighed, hoping she'd never actually have to use any of her weaponry.

"If I know Nan, and I do, if we don't get Gany out of the larder as quickly as possible she'll be serving us up stale cakes for tea for the next few days. I can't deal with that again!"

Cerry couldn't help but giggle. This Elissa was just... incorrigible it seemed. She was incredibly likeable though. If she'd known her in Sydney, she was sure they'd be close friends. Elissa dragged her through a few maze-like corridors until they came to a wooden door which was slightly ajar. They could hear a rather exasperated woman trying to cajole the hound to come out of the larder, to no avail.

"Nan? We're here!"

The older, grey haired woman glanced up at them, clearly annoyed.

"You took your sweet time, didn't you? I'd almost given up hope. Get your ridiculous beast out of my pantry. Now!"

Elissa grinned and started backing towards the door.

"Maybe we should come back later...?"

Nan reached up and grabbed Elissa's arm in a tight grip.

"Oh no you don't! Get him out, now! I have a banquet to prepare, and for all I know that animal has eaten most of the main course!"

Elissa threw up her hands in mock defeat, and ventured toward the pantry door, with Cerry and Ser Gilmore following closely behind. Cerry could hear the dog growling behind the closed door. It sounded very cranky about something. Elissa opened the door wide enough for them to slip inside and closed it behind them. Cerry almost gasped in surprise. She'd known mabari hounds were supposed to be large and imposing, but sheesh... Ganymede reached Elissa's waist, and his shoulders were almost as wide as Ser Gilmore's. He was growling at a pile of sacks in the back of the room, the hackles on the back of his neck rising. His teeth looked to be at least two inches long... Good gravy, she didn't want to be on the receiving end of a mabari attack. Elissa wandered up to the dog and crouched down near his face.

"What is it, Gany? Is something behind there?"

The mabari didn't stop growling, but seemed to dip its head as if to affirm Elissa's assumption. He took a step closer, and one of the sacks twitched. A black, whiskered head poked out, the small pink nose twitching as it sniffed the air. Another of the sacks twitched, then another, and suddenly a writhing sea of black fur spilled out of the pile and started rolling towards them. For a moment, Cerry thought they were cats from the size, then she noticed the twitching whiskers, elongated noses and protruding teeth.

"Oh my god, are those rats?! Those are rats!"

Elissa and Ser Gilmore had both drawn their weapons, and moved into fighting stances. Cerry fumbled with the hilt of her sword, finally pulling it free, the weight of it feeling odd in her right hand. She pulled the dagger out with her left hand, and then looked over to Elissa for guidance again. The warrior held her shield at ankle height, stabbing the rats as they came close to her. Gilmore took large sweeping arcs at them as they poured across the floor. Cerry looked dubiously at the sword in her right hand and held it out towards the three rats encroaching on her.

"Don't make me hurt you, rats..."

The rats continued to approach, unperturbed, now squeaking angrily. Cerry closed her eyes and stabbed forward. There was a louder squeak, then more panicked squealing. Cerry cracked her eyes open and saw that she had managed to skewer one of the rats on her blade. And it was still wriggling. Oh lordy... The other two rats seemed to take ire at the fact that she'd killed their friend, and were advancing again. She closed her eyes once more and stabbed forward, this time with the sword and the dagger, in a sort-of scissor move. The squealing finally stopped. Ser Gilmore and Elissa glanced over at her, looking confused.

"Lady Ceridwen, were you... fighting with your eyes closed?"

"And do you still have a rat on your sword?"

Cerry looked down and saw the rat still wiggling on her sword.

"Ewww..."

She scraped her dagger down the blade, and the rat's body fell to the floor. Ganymede trotted over, grabbed it up into his jaws and snapped it's neck. Then he sat in front of Cerry with his head cocked to one side, looking up at her. Cerry looked down at him, and wondered whether mabari's enjoyed having their head's scratched.

"Errr... Good boy. Nice... killing?"

He woofed softly at her, and nosed her in the side. He reached a paw up and touched her on the hand.

"What is it? Am I covered in disgusting rat bits?"

She reached forward and scratched him behind his ears. Gany's eyes closed in pleasure, but he still didn't move away from her. He kept his head cocked to one side, and sniffed her hand again. Maybe the dog could tell that she wasn't supposed to be here? Maybe she smelled different? She scratched him on top of his head this time, and he chuffed happily at her. Maybe he had just been waiting for a head scratch after all. He started licking the rat blood from her hands, and Cerry giggled.

"Hey now... stop that."

He growled at her, but his tail was wagging at the same time. Cerry assumed that was the mabari version of 'I'd like to see you try and stop me, lady.' After her hands were clean, he moved on to Elissa and Ser Gilmore, who were still both looking at her oddly.

"Forgive me, My Lady, but are you feeling alright? You didn't really seem to know what you were doing with your weapons. Do you need to rest a moment, perhaps take that other health potion?"

Cerry shook her head.

"No, I'm fine. I might head back out and get some more practice under my belt after this though. Maybe after exploring the castle for a bit..."

Elissa giggled, as Ganymede licked her fingers clean, and looked over at her.

"Explore? Why on earth would you need to explore the castle, you've lived here for six months! You know where absolutely everything is, unless... Oh dear, is your memory playing up after all? Oh Maker, I HAVE damaged your brain! Alright then, quick recap: Your parents sent you here from Kirkwall six months ago because they wanted you to experience 'country living'. Though you actually told me it was because they'd caught you in a rather compromising position with a young nobleman, and wanted you two as far away from each other as possible. I've been trying to train you up as a warrior, but you're absolutely terrible at holding a shield, so you've decided on duel wielding instead. It suits your roguish personality better anyway. And we haven't come across a single lock you couldn't pick in this entire castle either. Makes me wonder what else you were getting up to in the big city that you aren't telling me..."

So it sounded like the Ceridwen here could also pick locks... Cerry smiled to herself. Whenever she played 'Dragon Age' she always played as a rogue. It meant that she could open all the locked doors and chests without having to rely on another party member. She stopped again, suddenly realising something. She'd stepped into someone else's life, almost seamlessly. A different Ceridwen, Ceridwen Cousland, formally of Kirkwall, sent to live with her uncle and aunt to avert a family embarrassment. The only thing they seemed to actually have in common was a mutual love of lock picking. Cerry wondered what had happened to the other Ceridwen, was she currently wandering around Sydney just as baffled as she was? Or was she possibly in hospital with a sucking head wound and no memory of who she was or where she was supposed to be? That thought sobered her somewhat. Elissa walked up and clapped her on the shoulder, breaking her out of her reverie.

"Come on then, let's go tell Nan the pantry is safe again, and then we'll go 'exploring'. It'll hopefully jog a few more memories anyway. Then you can go and challenge some of the more trustworthy guardsmen to a few training bouts this afternoon. I don't think Gilmore would trust me not to shield bash you again."

Ser Gilmore looked at Elissa, blushing, then looked away. Clearly Elissa was going to spend the afternoon with him. That was kind of sweet, really. Cerry nodded, and opened the door for them to exit the pantry. The stepped back into the kitchen, and Nan looked at the sorry state of their collective armours.

"Maker's Breath! What in Thedas happened?"

Ser Gilmore moved to step forward, but Elissa stepped in front of him.

"Nothing to worry about Nan, just a minor rat invasion. Ganymede saved all the food though. He was holding them off until we arrived. If anything, he's the one that deserves all the praise."

Gany had the good graces to hang his head slightly, and shuffle his feet. Nan looked at the dog, and reached out, scratching him behind his ears.

"Good boy. Here, have some pork bits, and don't say old Nan never gave you anything. Now the rest of you, get out of my kitchen and stop dripping... Maker, is that blood? Stop dripping blood all over my clean floor!"

Elissa sighed and grabbed Cerry's arm again, ready to drag her out, when Nan stopped them by the door.

"One moment, girls. Indulge me if you will... Do you remember that old story I used to tell you, Elissa, 'The Dog That Bit'?"

Elissa nodded, still tugging on Cerry's arm.

"Yes, I remember it Nan, vividly. Like it was yesterday, even."

Nan sighed, and glanced at Cerry.

"And do you remember the moral of the tale, if it's so fresh in your mind?"

Elissa seemed to be stumped, so Cerry decided to help her out.

"I can't remember the story in it's entirety, but I believe the moral was 'Pride goes before a Fall'. Something along those lines, right?"

Nan gave her a rare smile, which made her look ten years younger.

"That is the gist of it, my dear. Elissa, you need to learn to reign in your boasting, before you go running into a situation you have no chance of conquering. Recognise your weaknesses and learn to deal with them, don't just badger everyone until they agree with you. Not everyone is as easily led as your young cousin here. Or Ser Gilmore."

On mention of his name, Ser Gilmore's ears started turning red. Elissa started pulling her out the door again, this time followed by both Ser Gilmore and Ganymede.

"It's been lovely chatting, Nan, really, but we have to go. Places to go, people to see... See you at the feast tonight!"

Nan sighed and shooed them out.

"Thank you for your help!"

The older woman's voice drifted out behind them. Elissa all but ran down the corridor away from the kitchens, dragging Cerry with her.

"Maker, I thought she was going to sit us down and tell us the whole story again. Thank goodness you remembered the moral of the story. That clearly means there's nothing wrong with your long term memory, right? I remember hearing that story with you when we were children."

Cerry nodded, still wondering about the consequences of another Ceridwen being on the loose while she was stuck here. Though the thought of the feast was rather intriguing. She hoped she'd still be here in the evening to attend a real Ferelden feast. Then they could swap back, if that was truly what had happened. It seemed to be the only explanation that kind of made sense.

"So, where are we going first then?"

Elissa stopped to think, and Ser Gilmore tapped her on the shoulder softly.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave you at this point, Ladies. My duties call me elsewhere, at least for the next couple of hours."

Elissa turned and held onto his forearm, causing him to look her in the eye. He blushed again. The man was just adorable.

"I'll see you this afternoon. And I'll bring you something of Fergus' to wear to the banquet, alright? The usual place?"

Ser Gilmore smiled, pushing Elissa's hair back behind her ear. Cerry was reminded of Zach making the same gesture with her that very day, and unconsciously touched her own hair. That had only been today, right? It was hard to imagine two such different worlds even existing at the same time. Then again, as she had thought earlier, this could all just be an incredibly vivid dream. Elissa smiled back, moving closer to him.

"The usual place, of course. See you then. See you later as well, Lady Ceridwen."

He nodded a farewell at Cerry, and she gave him a small wave goodbye. Elissa watched him walk away, and Gany gave a soft bark. Cerry supposed that was 'see ya' in mabari. Elissa turned back to address her, her cheeks still quite pink.

"I was thinking we might head to the main hall. Father will probably be there, and I'm quite curious about this Grey Warden now. Oh, and I think Arl Howe was coming today too, seeing as he is heading out with Father and Fergus tomorrow."

Cerry's headache came back with a vengeance when Elissa mentioned Arl Howe. She was almost blinded by pain, but she held herself from making any sound. She didn't want Elissa to worry after all. And she did want to explore the castle rather a lot.

"I think I should like to meet this Howe fellow. And the Grey Warden, of course. Very well, let's go to the main hall!"

Cerry turned to the left and started towards the left side of the castle, but Elissa stopped her, a cheeky look on her face.

"The main hall is this way, Cerry."

Elissa pointed to the right, at the pair of rather large wooden doors which could only possibly lead to the main hall of the castle. Cerry sighed, and changed direction.

"Of course it is. My bad."

Elissa threw her head back and laughed loudly.

"Maker's Breath, you've certainly been saying some odd things today! 'Oh my god', 'What the heck' and now 'My bad'... maybe you did hit your head harder than I realised after all!"

They walked towards the heavy doors, still giggling together, and for once Cerry didn't hear any music in the back of her mind. There had been a constant stream of music up to this point, but now... silence. Most of the songs had been pleasantly ambient and some, like 'Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds' had actually fit in with the situation at hand. Now though, silence. Hopefully this wasn't a bad sign.

Sydney, 2014

Morgan glanced at the clean white walls surrounding her, and tried not to cry. The hospital room was as stark and white as she had been expecting. The girl in the bed, however... There was nothing white about her. Most of her face, what could be seen around the breathing tube and various bandages, was a deep purple. Bruising from the impact of her hitting the street sign, apparently. At least that's what the doctor had told her. Both of her legs were in plaster, and one of her arms, and they had her neck in a brace just in case. The doctor had also said she'd had some bleeding in her brain, but when they'd tried to relieve the pressure it had already alleviated somehow. Morgan had looked at the doctor skeptically, and he had just shrugged. That's what had happened. Magical brain relief. Fuck. If this was premium healthcare... Morgan sighed, and looked down at the girl in the bed again. No, not the girl in the bed... Cerry. Her best, and technically only, friend, Ceridwen Crane, had almost died. She'd almost died going to buy her Chinese food for dinner.

They, the people at the hospital, had tried to contact Cerry's next of kin, but her parent's were currently on a cruise around Europe. They could pretty much only be contacted by email, and that was spotty at best. So they had called her. The next best thing. The roommate. When Morgan had shown up, Cerry had still been in surgery. When they had brought the bed out, Morgan had nearly screamed. They hadn't told her just how bad the accident had been, they'd only said that Cerry had been a victim of a hit and run just outside her place of work. Cerry had been unrecognisable. So many tubes, bandages, and completely surrounded by doctors and nurses monitoring her every breath. Then they had all left after they'd gotten her hooked back up to everything in the sterile white room. Typical.

Morgan noticed that the headphones of her iPod had slipped from her ears at some point, and hastened to replace them, then realised there was no light emanating from the small music player. The battery was flat. The doctor had said there was no harm in putting the headphones on her, and playing her some music while she slept, if she was indeed sleeping. Morgan had heard the word 'coma' whispered by the nurses a couple of times, but she'd given them her 'hard stare' until they'd run along. She plugged the player into the wall, and the screen flashed back on. Morgan selected Cerry's most recently made playlist, hit shuffle, and placed the headphones back over Cerry's ears. She kissed her on one of the unbandaged patches on her forehead, and a tear escaped from her eye, smudging her black eyeliner.

"Wake up, you twit... Please wake up... I don't know what I'll do without you... Please, just... wake up..."

END OF PART 02

Alright! End of part two! Who's excited? I know I am! You know why? Because I know what's happening in part three: The Big Ferelden Banquet. We get to meet Duncan, Howe and... Dairren! Yes, I said Dairren! Well, even if no-one's reading this, I'm sure having fun writing it! As always, read, review and enjoy!

Foxfire out!


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